Authors note: My first attempt at this and I am more than a little nervous about posting this. I must send a special thankyou celestial1's way for reading this and giving me some excellent pointers and a great idea for coming up with a title. Oh, to fend off questions about said title. It is French for 'Nightmare'. Oh, one more thing...sorry if the format is wrong in anyway, I'm new to that, too. New to this, new to that, new to everything. Enough of me, and on to the reason you are here.

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His eyes snap open in response to some unknown sound, and he instantly picks up on two things. Two extremely odd things. For one, he is in a canopy bed. The canopy bed. And it is huge around him, which can only mean one thing. He is seven years old again and the noise he heard must be…

His eyes travel slowly to the end of the bed. Sitting at his feet, looking as carefree and beautiful as he remembers her in his dreams, is his mother. She stands and moves forward, her smile growing as she approaches his pillow, and he wills the dream not to end. He would give anything at this moment for her lips pressed against his forehead, for one more moment with her. But then she sits back down by his side, and looks away, towards the door.

He reaches up tentatively, hand resting on her shoulder, begging silently for her attention, for anything. To see her face again. But when she finally looks back at him all he sees is blood red lips and glistening fangs smiling at him out of the darkness…

He wakes with an extremely undignified yelp, hands thrown up in front of his face to protect him from…what? He isn't sure, now. A vampire? His mother? His mother the vampire? I am an idiot. That thought makes him feel better. He is only crazy if he pretends he's not. A movie. That will make it go away. Hitchcock. Perfect. Rear Window, perhaps. Or maybe The Lady Vanishes. No, even better. Spellbound. With that weird dream sequence that is even more bizarre than his own. That will restore his sanity. If only for a little while.